


Wrap Me in Your Shadows

by Silkette



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Female My Unit | Byleth, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Kink Meme, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Prompt Fill, Protective Hubert von Vestra, Requited Unrequited Love, drunk Ferdie, everyone can see dumb ferdibert boys are in love, sober Hubert, stupid and so in love, theyre stupid your honor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:28:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29335323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silkette/pseuds/Silkette
Summary: When Ferdinand gets drunk at a party, it’s Hubert who volunteers to care for him.But is everything as it seems?Written for the FE3H kink meme.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 14
Kudos: 119
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	Wrap Me in Your Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for [this](https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/2082.html?thread=3692066#cmt3692066) kink meme prompt!
> 
> Protective!Hubert just sends me into a fugue state lol

Ferdinand leaned back against the wall and sipped his wine, letting his vision slip out of focus until the bright lights and colors of the ballroom blurred and scattered to rainbow halos. The night was young and going well so far. All their efforts had paid off.

He’d been surprised and elated when Edelgard had agreed to his suggestion that they hold a celebration to mark the date of her ascension. She was usually very frugal with their funds, as befitted wartime, spending their budget on necessities only. She had vetoed the idea of a celebration the first time Ferdinand proposed it. And the second, and the third, until he pointed out that during trying times like these the people needed feasts and parties most of all. To give them a brief reprieve from their ever present fear and apprehension; a single night to relax and be reborn. A party would do wonders for morale and, if they were careful, they could pull it off without spending more than they could afford.

Byleth backed him up and eventually Edelgard had to bow before their united front. They had her permission.

Though Ferdinand _had_ wondered with private amusement just how much of Edelgard’s acquiescence was due to his reasoning, and how much came from the chance to see their former Professor in her ball gown.

Now, the night had arrived and the party was in full swing. It was being held in the monastery ballroom, which had been decorated with thousands of tiny twinkling lights conjured up by Professor Hanneman and Lysithea. Tables had been dragged in from the dining hall and pushed against the walls for a buffet. The spread wasn’t the most lavish but they’d made the best of what they had: Mercedes baked trays and trays of sweets, beyond delighted when her brother had shyly offered his help, and Petra painstakingly recreated a few Brigid dishes for variety. Ferdinand and Caspar had hauled up barrels of beer and casks of wine from the cellars. Professor Manuela had mixed up a bowl of her infamous, utterly lethal fruit punch. Dorothea had strong-armed Linhardt and Bernadetta into helping her decorate with anything they could find. A group of local musicians had offered their services at a discount to thank the Black Eagles Strike Force for ridding their town of bandits.

Ferdinand was extremely pleased with how it had all turned out. They had food, drink, music, good company and, best of all, Hubert was back from his mission. What more could one ask for?

Ferdinand’s gaze roamed through the brightly colored crowd until he found Hubert’s signature black. He’d only just returned the day before after being gone for nearly three weeks on a mission to gather intelligence ahead of their march into Faerghus. Hubert’s position as chief spymaster meant he came and went frequently, but Ferdinand never got used to it. He always missed Hubert when he was away and felt overjoyed every time he returned to them.

Hubert was deep in conversation with Professor Hanneman, most likely about something magic related. Ferdinand smiled softly at the sight. Some might say wearing all black to a party was gauche, but Ferdinand thought it suited Hubert perfectly. He looked extremely striking amongst the rainbow of finery. People often forgot just how well a little black could set off what was bright and eye catching.

Ferdinand watched Hubert chuckle at something Hanneman said and quickly looked away as he felt his cheeks heat up. He didn’t want anyone to catch him staring. As well as being impolite, it could have unfortunate consequences. Ferdinand couldn’t have his secret exposed now, not during such important times when everyone needed as few distractions as possible.

Hubert was always a distraction for Ferdinand now. Embarrassing to admit as it was, he could gaze at him for hours and not tire of it. He’d been in love with Hubert for a long time. It was rather incredible considering how much they used to loathe each other during their schooldays. Now Ferdinand’s feelings had done a complete one-eighty: he’d gone from hating the sight of Hubert to finding excuses to spend as much time with him as he could. They still bickered sometimes and he still found Hubert frustrating on occasion, such as when the obstinate man refused to keep a proper sleep schedule and replaced real food with coffee. Yet inside, his heart ached for him.

Far from the spiteful, creeping toady he’d once believed Hubert to be, Ferdinand now saw the true nature that lay below the surface. Like a wicked tangle of thorns that sheltered and protected a host of tiny creatures inside. He saw a passionate, dedicated and brave man who had sacrificed so much for what he believed in. A man slow to open up, but who would become fiercely loyal and protective to those privileged few who earned his trust. Hubert was thoughtful, intelligent, shrewd and had a surprisingly wicked sense of humor. He never suffered fools, but had a lot of patience for those people and ideas that truly deserved it. He was even kind in his own, often bewildering, way. Like the time he’d made an effort to help Bernadetta conquer a little of her anxiety. Even if it meant having to wear a rather questionable flower accessory, Hubert took it on the chin for her sake. Ferdinand never would have believed it before he got to know him better.

Hubert was a truly exceptional person and Ferdinand adored him, though he knew Hubert didn’t feel the same way. Hubert _cared_ for him now, he was reasonably sure of that, but in the way he cared for all the Black Eagle Strike Force. Platonic, familiar, protective, like a watchful older brother. Whatever love Hubert harbored for him, it would never be romantic in nature.

Ferdinand knew this and had made his peace with it.

(Really, he had).

He cherished their friendship. It was more than enough that he _had_ a place in Hubert’s heart, even if it wasn’t the one he longed for.

(Really, it was).

He didn’t need to be Hubert’s paramour. He didn’t need Hubert to kiss him or hold him or whisper words of love in his ear. He didn’t need to wake up beside Hubert so that he was the first thing Ferdinand saw every morning. It did not do to be greedy. He was quite content with what he had.

(...)

Ferdinand sighed heavily and pushed away from the wall. Here he was, master of ceremonies, and yet he suddenly didn’t feel much like socializing. Perhaps he’d just have another drink instead.

***

“E-excuse me, your M-Majesty! Hey, umm, s-sorry to bother you! But, ah, i-it’s about Ferdie?”

Bernadetta’s squeak would have made Edelgard start if she hadn’t trained herself not to react like that in public. She hadn’t heard Bernadetta approach at all; it seemed all those stealth lessons from Shamir’s Sniper training were really paying off.

Edelgard paused in her conversation with Byleth and raised a questioning eyebrow at the trembling archer. She was honestly surprised Bernadetta had stayed at the ball this long instead of making a break for her room. Confidence training with Byleth was obviously paying off as well

“What about him?” Edelgard asked.

“He’s, ahh, um,” Bernadetta looked tortured, wringing a fraying napkin between her hands. “I just, um, I th-think he should maybe go to bed? He’s, well...he’s drunk?”

Drunk?

Edelgard frowned and cast her gaze over the ballroom until it landed on Ferdinand’s bright orange hair. Even at a distance she could see Bernadetta was right: Ferdinand was slumped precariously against a pillar in a way that suggested he’d have trouble standing unaided. His face was flushed and he swayed and tilted dangerously far back as he drank from his glass, a few dark red drops spilling and dripping into his cravat. Edelgard struggled to hide her surprise. Ferdinand wasn’t much of a drinker, ever preferring tea to alcohol, so to see him let himself become inebriated like this was very unusual. In public no less. Was there some reason or had he just got so swept up in the celebrations that he’d become careless of how much he was drinking?

Judging by the maudlin expression on Ferdinand’s face, she doubted it was the latter. Either that or Ferdinand had turned into a depressed drunk at some point. The few times she’d seen him like this, he’d been a giggly one.

It was Bernadetta’s usual flurry of apologies that pulled Edelgard back from her musing.

“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry i-if it’s none of my business!” She squealed and hid her face when Edelgard and Byleth both looked at her. “B-but I was just worried! I mean-! I know we’re among f-friends, a-and no one here would ever hurt Ferdie, b-but I don’t want anything bad t-to happen to him even so!“

“Bernie, it’s fine,” Byleth said when there was finally a break in the rapid fire babbling, making her voice as soft and soothing as possible when Bernadetta squeaked and cowered. “Thank you. I’m glad you told us.”

She looked back at Edelgard as Bernadetta sighed with relief.

“Want me to take him back to his room, El? He doesn’t look too good.”

“If you will permit me, Professor, I will take him,” came a familiar voice from behind Byleth.

Edelgard almost jumped again for the second time in minutes and, judging by Bernadetta’s shriek, she wasn’t the only one. Even compared to Shamir and her disciples, Hubert was in another class when it came to stealth. The Emperor’s Shadow was a title well earned. These days he made about as much noise as one when he moved. Now he stood at Byleth’s side, an untouched plate of food in his gloved hand. 

“I am rather weary from the journey,” Hubert continued as they all stared at him. “I would be glad to put him to bed then retire early myself. As, ah, _fun_ as tonight has been.”

He smirked at the last part. Bernadetta immediately looked furious that she hadn’t thought of this potential escape route herself. Edelgard nodded. Hubert was the best person to deal with Ferdinand.

“Very well. We’ll leave him to you.”

“Very good, my lady.”

Hubert bowed, deposited his plate on a nearby table, then headed for Ferdinand. Edelgard, Byleth and Bernadetta watched as he put a hand on his shoulder making Ferdinand look up at him blearily, flushed cheeks darkening from pink to red. Hubert said something and Ferdinand shook his head, unbalancing himself until Hubert grabbed him. More words passed between them, then Ferdinand sighed and bowed his head in acquiescence. He rubbed his eyes as Hubert took his mostly empty glass and set it aside. Then he gently but firmly pulled Ferdinand’s arm over his shoulder and slipped the other around his slim waist, holding him tight.

Bernadetta let out another sigh of relief as the pair left. Hubert half helping, half carrying Ferdinand out of the hall.

“Th-thank goodness…”

“He’ll be fine,” Byleth patted her gently on the back. “Hubert will look after him. He cares for Ferdinand a great deal.”

Amazingly, Bernadetta actually smiled.

“I know! A-and Ferdie cares for him too, s-so much. They really, um, they really like each other don’t they…?”

Edelgard returned the smile, as did Byleth.

“Yes, Bernadetta, they really do.”

They were quiet for a moment as each of them thought about their obviously pining, frustratingly oblivious, duke and marquis.

It had honestly become rather ridiculous at this point. Everyone knew how in love they were. Everyone. Everyone, it seemed, except Hubert and Ferdinand.

Flames, even _Caspar_ had eventually worked it out and started loudly asking why they didn’t just kiss already since they were both head over heels, but no one had an answer for him. Time and time again Edelgard had tried to convince Hubert to take the plunge and confess, but he invariably refused. Only her solemn word of honor kept her from just telling Ferdinand herself, but she knew doing so would be an unforgivable breach of trust. It had taken a lot for him to admit his feelings to her as it was. She couldn’t betray him like that.

Though it didn’t stop them arguing about it.

_”Hubert, please. Just tell him, I beg you. He returns your feelings, I’m sure of it.”_

_“Apologies, my lady, but I cannot. I do not wish to ruin our friendship by forcing him to turn me down.”_

_“I really don’t think that’s at all likely, Hubert...”_

_“Then we must agree to disagree. Now, if we can return to the subject at hand, I believe our problem with Derdriu can be solved thusly…”_

They’d had that conversation so many times now. Oft called a spider and a snake, Edelgard was beginning to think a mule would suit her vassal better. He was stubborn enough. Dorothea had had similar results when she’d tried to convince Ferdinand to be the one to confess. They were getting nowhere fast.

“Think maybe they’ll finally get it this time?” Byleth broke the silence, asking no one in particular. “Or will they keep insisting they’re “just friends” until we all die of old age?”

Edelgard rolled her eyes and groaned. Bernadetta buried her face in her ruined napkin.

“I doubt it. Sothis herself could flounce down from heaven and tell them they were meant to be and they’d still find ways of misinterpreting it. I'm afraid when it comes to love, Hubert and Ferdinand are a good match: both as hopeless as each other.”

***

Hubert was tired by the time he reached Garreg Mach. His mission, already challenging, had run long and he’d been travelling all day and the previous night to make up the lost time. Fortunately it had all been worth it in the end, and he and his agents had returned with the intelligence they set out for.

Lady Edelgard would be pleased. When the time finally came, Faerghus would crumble before them like a handful of sand. Just as Derdriu had done before it.

Hubert stifled a yawn as he crossed the deserted market plaza and turned left through the fishing pond passage that led to the dormitories. It was almost midnight and the Black Eagle Strike Force were all likely abed, save perhaps Linhardt and his lady. If she was still up, she’d most likely be working in her room, reading and signing paperwork by candlelight. He would deliver his report then go catch an hour or two of sleep ready from the briefing tomo-

Hubert paused halfway up the stairs next to the dining hall when something caught his attention. Strains of music and the buzz of chatter and laughter carried on the night wind from the direction of the ballroom. By the sound of it, they were in the middle of a feast or some such celebration. Hubert was confused for a second, then he remembered today was the day of Her Majesty’s coronation. He hadn’t forgotten (the small gift stashed in the pocket of his travelling coat was proof of it) but he wasn’t expecting anyone to mark the occasion in a big way. Not while they were still in the midwinter of their war. That Lady Edelgard would agree to this was quite surprising. She normally turned down all requests for parties and feasts, even from the other Eagles.

Obviously someone had managed to persuade her otherwise, and Hubert had a fair idea who.

His suspicions were proved correct when, on his way to see the festivities for himself, he ran into a tipsy Gatekeeper who confirmed it had been Ferdinand who organized the gala in his Edelgard’s honor. Hubert thanked the slightly wobbly man and left him to his own devices.

His lips twitched and he struggled to fight down the idiotic smile that always threatened to spread over his face when he thought about Ferdinand.

Painful as it was to admit for someone like him, Hubert had been aware of his feelings for Ferdinand for some time. It had taken a while before he stopped living in denial - the Emperor’s Shadow, _lovesick?_ How utterly ridiculous! - but in the end he couldn’t hide from the fact his feelings for Ferdinand had grown far beyond platonic. He was in love. He, Hubert von Vestra, darkest of the Shadows who cut a bloody path through the Adrestian night, was in love. Truly, madly, deeply, utterly in love. With Ferdinand von Aegir of all people! Quite an incredible feat considering the utter antipathy they used to feel for each other. Nowadays Hubert felt anything but. They still had their spats and Ferdinand could still be exasperating at times, especially when he insisted on taking unnecessary risks on the battlefield and almost giving Hubert multiple heart attacks in the process, but it didn’t matter. The heart that Hubert was not supposed to have longed for Ferdinand more each day.

Ferdinand, who he had once thought nothing but a loud, arrogant fop, had become Hubert’s shining sun in these dark times. He was kind, infinitely generous and loving, open hearted and empathetic. Often so brave and selfless that it made Hubert want to shake him till his beautiful copper hair streamed. There was nothing Ferdinand wouldn’t do, no mountain he wouldn’t climb, to help those he loved. Or just anyone who happened to be in need at that moment. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Hubert he strove to be noblest of nobles. It had just taken Hubert a little while to see that’s just what Ferdinand was. He was clever too, much more than Hubert had once thought possible. Far from being the vacuous pretty boy Hubert had judged him, Ferdinand possessed a quick, lively mind, always brimming with new possibilities and hopes and dreams for a better future. He was eternally optimistic, always seeing the good in those around him. Hubert couldn’t help but be drawn to his light and warmth. He was like a moon caught in the orbit of a sun. His sun, his Ferdinand.

Though that was wrong, because Ferdinand wasn’t his and never would be.

Hubert knew Ferdinand didn’t love him back, not in the same way Hubert did. Ferdinand cared for him in the same way he cared for all of them: as a dear and trusted friend. Hubert was nowhere near naive enough to think he could ever change this. Ferdinand was absolutely beautiful inside and out, radiating charisma and attraction like some dazzling beacon. He could have his pick of any man or woman in Adrestia. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in Alleil that he’d ever look twice at a dour, dingy shadow like Hubert. It would be like a bloodstained carrion crow trying to romance the king of swans.

He had Ferdinand’s love, but not his heart, and that’s the way it would remain.

Hubert was fine with this. Ferdinand cared for him as a friend and for this, which he’d once believed impossible, Hubert was grateful.

It was plenty and he didn’t need any more. Not at all.

Really.

It was absolutely fine. He was fine. There was no problem at all.

…

Hubert sighed and debated just turning round and going to bed as he’d originally planned. Suddenly, being surrounded by a roomful of happy, dancing, flirting partygoers sounded like even worse torture than normal. But no, he couldn’t run and hide just because unrequited love had made his mood go into a tailspin. Feelings weren’t important next to duty. He had to report to Lady Edelgard, aching heart or no. There would be plenty of time to mope and brood and curse the innate unfairness of existence when he was lying in bed, unable to sleep while Ferdinand’s beautiful face smiled in his mind’s eye.

Hubert braced himself and entered the ballroom.

Inside was a bright, noisy swirl of lights, decorations and monastery residents eating, drinking, chatting, dancing or pairing off to go and do more clandestine things somewhere private. Hubert narrowed his eyes against the assault and tried not to get an immediate migraine.

He didn’t encounter Ferdinand while making a beeline for Edelgard, who was deep in conversation with Byleth and Dorothea while Bernadetta hovered nervously like she was about to bolt at any second. The young duke was probably busy talking and dancing and generally having a wonderful time being the belle of the ball. Hubert was rather glad not to catch sight of him. It was preferable to seeing Ferdinand in someone else's arms.

“Oh, Hubie, you’re back,” Dorothea said as he approached them. “And...you’ve changed?” She looked at him sympathetically. “Oh dear, was poor Ferdie sick on you?”

Hubert blinked. What?

He frowned, trying and failing to make sense of her words. Was he more tired than he thought, so much so that he was failing to grasp simple sentences?

(He was also privately a little put out that only Dorothea had bothered to welcome him home. But they didn’t need to know that.)

“Forgive me,” Hubert gave in. “But I don’t quite understand what you mean.”

The four women exchanged puzzled looks, even Bernadetta abandoning her usual terrified expressions and assuming a befuddled one instead.

“She meant...are you wearing different clothes now because Ferdinand threw up on you?” Byleth tried to clarify. “He was pretty drunk.”

Ferdinand? Drunk?

“You mean tonight?” Hubert asked slowly, frown deepening. “He was drunk tonight?”

“Yes, and you offered to take him back to his room,” Edelgard said, her confusion turning to concern.

“When?”

“About ten minutes ago? I saw you two leave, so I came to ask the girls what was up. Ferdie hasn’t changed since our Academy days, still such a lightweight.” Dorothea said.

Her brow crinkled with worry when Hubert said nothing.

“Hubie, are you alright?”

Hubert was not alright. Hubert von Vestra was currently the exact opposite of “alright”. Not now their words had planted an awful seed in his mind that had sprung up like a toxic weed.

“You’re saying you saw me leave with Ferdinand after telling you I would take him to his room?” Hubert asked, voice carefully neutral despite the fact his heart had begun to pound and his stomach twist into sickening knots.

“Yes,” Edelgard’s concern visibly grew. “Hubert, what is it? What’s happened?”

“Nothing, my lady,” Hubert replied, swiftly turning to leave. “Apologies, but your words reminded me of something important I have to do. I must be going at once. Enjoy the rest of the night.”

“Hubert, wait-“

He was away and gone before she could even finish calling his name.

_Please, no!_

Hubert broke into a sprint the moment the night air hit him. With every fiber of his being, he cursed the wards that he himself had cast around the monastery which prevented the use of _Warp_. A vital protection against enemy mages, now Hubert’s own magic was keeping him from the one he loved more than life itself. One who could be in mortal danger at this very moment. Or worse. 

“ _Please,_ ” Hubert prayed as he charged up the dormitory stairs three at a time. He never called on the Goddess but now found himself begging for a miracle.“ _Please, oh Sothis, please! For the love of everything good, you miserable bitch, if you’re up there then please, please let it not be too late! Let me be wrong! Let it all be a mistake! I’ll do anything you ask! I’ll become a believer! I’ll pray to you every day! I’ll retrain as a priest, I’ll become the new Flames cursed archbishop if that’s what it takes! Just let him be spared! Let him be safe!_ ”

Hubert reached the landing and hurled himself towards Ferdinand’s room. One swift kick broke the lock and he threw open the door and charged inside, more terrified than he’d ever been in his life at what sights could be awaiting him.

Only to stop short as the blood in his veins turned to ice.

Ferdinand was lying in bed, beautiful sunlit hair spread out across the pillows. He was bare chested and Hubert couldn’t tell if he was naked under the blankets or just shirtless. His eyes were closed but he was breathing. He was alive! Ferdinand was alive!

Alive but not alone. A familiar blackened hand was stroking his hair, Reason stained fingers teasing and coiling the shining locks as they combed through them.

Ferdinand sighed and clumsily caught the hand as it came back up for another stroke. He nuzzled its palm then giggled and squirmed as it pulled away to run a long finger over the shell of his ear, tickling him.

“ _Hubert_ ,” he slurred and kissed the hand when it came within reach again.

Hubert’s hand.

Hubert stood rooted to the spot, momentarily struck dumb by the surreal sight of himself cuddling Ferdinand in his bed. The doppelgänger was still clothed, though his shirt was open and he’d removed his gloves. He sprawled in a relaxed, half sitting position while Ferdinand snuggled against his side. The fake held him close with the arm he was using to play with his hair.

Hubert watched, transfixed. Endless, unnamed emotions screaming at him. Ferdinand, who seemed to be half-conscious either from the wine or something else, laid his head on the fake Hubert’s bare chest with another dreamy sigh. A contented smile lit his lightly flushed face, eyes remaining closed as he nuzzled the imposter gently. The fake continued petting and stroking him, occasionally running fingers through long, silky hair.

Too drunk or drugged or both to save himself, Ferdinand was unaware of the dagger the false Hubert held in his other hand.

The doppelgänger pressed a kiss to the top of Ferdinand’s head and smiled at Hubert, cold and mocking.

“You know,” he (she?) said smugly in Hubert’s voice. “I actually could get used to this. He really is lovely, isn’t he? For a human. Perhaps when all this is over I’ll ask Thales if I can keep him. A lovely little pet to do with as I please.”

“Let him go,” Hubert said quietly.

Now he was over his shock, an all-consuming black rage was settling over him. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before, the fury burning so intensely in his chest that Hubert suddenly felt only a deadly calm. All other emotions immolated to ash and dust.

His fists clenched and sparked, crackling with building power until the air around him shimmered and the sharp scent of ozone filled the room. The world was empty of anything but him, Ferdinand and the fake.

“Let him go,” he went on. “And your death will be quick.” 

He made to step forward, but the fake narrowed his visible eye and swiftly held the dagger up to Ferdinand’s unguarded throat.

“Uh-uh,” the spy hissed. “That’s close enough, Vestra. Unless you want me to give your darling Ferdinand a red smile to match his hair. I know you’re quick, _beast_ , but know I am quicker. I could cut him deep enough that even your most skilled healer could do nothing but watch him drown in his own blood while you wept at his side.”

Twin pale gazes locked across the room, the air thick with a palpable tension. Hubert made himself focus on their standoff and not the way Ferdinand continued kissing and nuzzling their foe like a drunken kitten. Why was he acting this way? Had that bastard Agarthan slipped him something-

He couldn’t think about that now. The spy had intended to use Ferdinand as a hostage so even if the drug was dangerous, it wouldn’t be fast acting. Hubert would get Ferdinand to Linhardt as soon as this was done and together they’d make sure he recovered. Until then, nothing else mattered except getting Ferdinand out of this situation alive.

“Fine,” Hubert said, still quiet and low. “What do you want?”

“Oh, not much,” the fake sing-songed as he rubbed Ferdinand’s head, making him sigh with pleasure. “Just, a little birdie told us - isn’t that the expression you humans use? - you’ve been a bad boy lately, Hubert von Vestra.”

“That’s hardly a secret.”

His double laughed.

“Indeed,“ he twirled a lock of Ferdinand’s hair round his finger. “And normally we’d have no problem with that, but now...”

He tutted and shook his head as if Hubert was no more than a naughty schoolboy who had cheeked his elders.

“Now you’ve overstepped and gone too far. Sneaking around, asking questions that shouldn’t be asked, seeking things that shouldn’t be found. At least not by your kind.”

Hubert tensed ever so slightly. The spy stared at him coldly, all traces of fake good humor gone.

“You know what I’m talking about, don’t you? Don’t bother to deny it, Vestra.”

Hubert said nothing. The spy bared his teeth at him and went on.

“Did you really believe we didn’t know about your self-imposed mission to find our home?” His lips curled. “And after all we’ve done for your little Emperor and her war effort. Ungrateful parasites.”

Hubert still said nothing. Better to let him rant and discover what he knew. Only a fool or an amateur interrupted an enemy when they were offering information freely, and Hubert was neither.

“So now, you’re going to be a good little rat and hand over everything you and your agents collected. All of it, down to the last scrap of paper. That sounds like a fair trade, doesn’t it? For your lovely Duke Aegir’s life.”

He petted Ferdinand again, his other hand toying with the dagger. Hubert could tell by the way he held it that the Agarthan hadn’t been bluffing; he knew how to use that blade. He would definitely do it too. Their “allies” were completely without mercy and never made idle threats. This creature would kill Ferdinand and millions like him and feel no more guilt than if he’d swatted a fly.

The thought had Hubert boiling with rage and sick with fear. It was an impossible choice. He couldn’t hand over their intelligence. It was his only defence, _Fódlan’s_ only defence against the cataclysm the Agarthans could unleash. Hubert had no illusions about what they planned to do once the war was over. When the newly unified Empire was still recovering from years of bloodshed. Without the way to Shambhala, a way to strike directly at the Agarthans’ dark heart, they were doomed. 

Hubert had always been willing to make sacrifices for the greater good. It was what he and his lady lived for. He’d given up everything to see her dream become reality. He was used to giving all he could and more, he had learned to cope long ago. This decision should have been absolute simplicity. What was the loss of one man against all of humanity?

Even if that man was Ferdinand.

He’d been quiet for too long. The fake glared and flipped the dagger in his hand, moving it slowly towards Ferdinand’s throat.

“ _Wait!_ ” Hubert cried out, heart ripping with terror like he’d never felt as the blade stopped an inch away from Ferdinand’s carotid artery. “ _Alright!_ I’ll do it! agree to your terms! Just...don’t hurt him.”

“Good boy,” the spy said.

He withdrew the knife back to its original position and started running Hubert’s fingers through Ferdinand’s hair again. Hubert watched, transfixed, as he shivered with pleasure and pressed a sloppy kiss to the fake’s collarbone.

“Hubert…” 

“Well? Get on with it,” the Agarthan ordered, unperturbed by the kisses and nuzzles. “Bring me everything you have. Oh, and don’t think of trying to raise the alarm or anything foolish like that. I’m not the only one of us here tonight. Put one toe out of line and your lover will be dead faster than-“

“He’s not my lover,” Hubert blurted out before he could stop himself.

The Agarthan rolled his stolen eyes and tightened his hold on Ferdinand’s hair, making him wriggle and groan softly.

“Urgh, humans are truly idiotic. Whatever, I care not if you’re too blind to see what even your fellow vermin can. Just get me what I want. _Now._ ”

Hubert didn’t immediately obey.

“I will go, but if you harm one hair on his head-“ He began, only to cut himself off with a furious hiss as the Agarthan deliberately yanked out several of Ferdinand’s bright, silky hairs.

Their owner yelped at the sudden pain and raised his head for a moment, completely dazed. Only to flop back against the fake’s chest a second later and snuggle back up to him, eyes flickering shut.

“I do as I please, beast. You have no power here. Now _go!_ ”

Hubert’s fingers itched to wrap around the spy’s throat, but that would have to wait. He took one last look at Ferdinand and left the room. It didn’t take long to gather up all the intel he had on Shambhala, up to and including the back-ups of back-ups. Even after years of work, he and his agents had only recently come close to unearthing the lost city’s location. Thales covered his tracks well, it had taken so long to even get this far. Years and years of effort leading up to a breakthrough Hubert was sure would be coming soon. He’d thought his net was closing, but all the while had missed the snare that now choked him.

Hubert didn’t try to hide anything or any other similar deceptions. If the spy had been telling the truth - Hubert had no reason to believe he hadn’t - and he was being watched, then attempted concealment would be pointless anyway. Far worse, it could get Ferdinand killed.

Hubert’s heart skipped a beat as the image of Ferdinand kissing “him” jumped into his mind unbidden. How smitten he’d looked, how happy…

Whatever that Agarthan bastard had given him was strong. Hubert would treat him himself when this was all over. A master poisoner must also know the antidotes to all his tinctures. Hubert was confident that whatever the spy had used, he’d be able to reverse the effects. Hopefully the combination of the mystery drug and all the alcohol he’d drunk would keep Ferdinand from remembering anything of this night. It was a luxury Hubert couldn’t have for himself, but would gladly wish for the man he loved if it made his life easier.

Once he’d gathered everything, stashing the various encrypted reports and missives under his cloak, Hubert returned to Ferdinand’s room and swept in without bothering to knock.

The doppelgänger was sat up in bed which had caused Ferdinand to slide down his body. He was fast asleep, curled up with his head resting in the spy’s lap.

The fake smirked at Hubert’s look of loathing, relishing his torment.

“Well?”

He nodded when Hubert held up the stack of papers.

“Good. Put them on the desk then back away.”

Hubert did as he was told. The spy nodded again.

“Good, good. I suppose even humans can be taught using the right leverage. I hope this means you’ve learned your lesson, Vestra.” 

“Let him go,” Hubert hissed through his teeth. “You have what you want, now _let him go._ ”

“Hmm…” The double considered for a moment, then Hubert went still as he shook his head.

“No.”

“ _Why not?_ ” His jaw was clenched so tight it felt like it might shatter his skull from the pressure. “I did as you asked! I’ve given you all I have!”

“I know, but I’ve changed my mind. Now I think I’ll take the intel _and_ him,” the spy’s gloating gaze flickered down for just a moment as he patted Ferdinand again. 

“For insurance purposes. In case your kind are ever stupid enough to try to find us-“

The sentence was destined to go unfinished since Hubert was already moving before the first half had left the spy’s lips. He would not let them take Ferdinand. To be captured by Those Who Slither in the Dark was a fate worse than death, especially for the crested. He would not let it happen, even if it cost him his life. This was his last wild gamble and both of them had everything to lose.

The Agarthan shouted with surprise and anger, only just managing to dodge the burst of dark magic Hubert hurled straight at his face. The headboard exploded into a shower of scorched splinters and the whole room seemed to groan and tremble. The spy recovered quickly. He drew back the dagger with a furious snarl, aiming to stab Ferdinand through the throat, but Hubert was already on him. He caught the spy’s wrist and wrenched it brutally, not even taking the usual sadistic pleasure in the audible snap of bone and screech of pain. He cared nothing for how much or how little the Agarthan suffered in his brief moments left on the mortal plane.

For the spy was already dead. Had been from the moment he dared to come after Ferdinand. Hubert was about to make him realize it.

Once his double dropped the dagger, Hubert wasted no time in dragging him off the bed and wrestling him down to the floor. The spy struggled and kicked, cursing and spitting and trying to hurl magic at Hubert with his good hand. Hubert swatted the spells away as though they were no more than irritating bugs. He pinned the Agarthan and picked up the dagger from where it had fallen on the bed.

The spy’s pale eyes went wide with fear as Hubert raised it high above him.

“Wait!” He threw up Hubert’s blackened hands in a vain attempt to shield himself. “ _No!_ You can’t kill me! Thales will find out! He’ll-“

Hubert brought the dagger down onto the spy’s face with all his strength. He didn’t hear the shrieks or smell the blood that gushed onto the carpet. He didn’t react as the Agarthan stopped struggling and fell back with a wet gurgle bubbling from the mutilated gash that had just been his lips. He didn’t care that one strike would have been enough. He simply brought the knife down again and again, hacking at his own face until there was nothing left but a bloody, gaping hole.

Only then did Hubert stand up and calmly wipe the dagger on the side of the bed. He stashed it in his cloak, ready to be examined later.

“Hu...H-Hubert…?”

The weak slur of his name had Hubert at Ferdinand’s side even faster than he’d lunged at the Agarthan. The blanket had slid down to Ferdinand’s hip and Hubert was relieved to see he was only naked from the waist up, pants still up and belt still buckled. The dastard soaking the floor with his blood hadn’t done anything more than toy with him. The relief Hubert felt was like the weight of the entire monastery being lifted from his shoulders.

Ferdinand was still barely awake, amber eyes so bleary Hubert doubted he could see more than a foot in front of him. He looked confused but not afraid or sickened like he’d just witnessed Hubert turning the Agarthan’s face into offal. Thank the Goddess for small mercies.

Hubert was careful to shield Ferdinand from the corpse as he bent down beside him and laid a gentle hand against his cheek.

“It’s alright, my darling,” he breathed as softly and comfortingly as he could. “You’re safe now. Everything is fine.”

“But…”

“Sshh…” Hubert hesitated, then gently stroked Ferdinand’s hair the way the fake had done. “It’s just a nightmare. Go back to sleep.”

Ferdinand looked like he wanted to question him further, but his inebriated state coupled with Hubert’s loving ministrations were too much for him and soon his eyelids were drooping again. Hubert watched as Ferdinand sank back into the mattress and curled up, asleep again in moments.

Hubert reached into his coat with his free hand and pulled out one of his emergency beacons. He snapped it, waited a moment, then gently lifted Ferdinand into his arms and carried him towards the door. He’d barely reached the threshold when three of his agents burst into the room, deadly spells at the ready. They paused when they saw Hubert, Ferdinand and the body, but didn’t lower their hands.

Hubert felt a small swell of pride. He’d trained them well.

“Through plashy glen and meadows sweet-“ the agent in front began slowly.

“-to the golden shores of Aegir,” Hubert continued for her. “Where my love waits for me.”

“Never again for me, this green and pleasant land-“ said the second mage.

“For my heart I give to Aegir’s shining sea.” Hubert finished the verse they used to check each other’s identity.

The original poem had referred to Rhodos rather than Aegir, but Hubert had altered it as an extra layer of security. There was no reason he chose Aegir in particular, just that it was by the sea and had the correct number of syllables. That was all.

Really.

Meanwhile the three agents had relaxed and dispelled their magic. 

“You called, Lord Vestra?” The leader said.

Hubert couldn’t see thanks to her mask, but he was fairly certain her gaze had flickered to the dead spy for a moment.

“Do you wish us to clean up this mess?”

“Yes,” Hubert said as they parted before him and he swept past them into the corridor.

He knew they must be absolutely itching with curiosity, but that would have to wait. He had more important things to worry about at present.

“Take the body to my laboratory and see that this room is restored to normal,” Hubert instructed. “If he had accomplices here tonight, then I’m almost certain they’ve already fled. Conduct a search anyway. Comb the monastery from Abyss to the Star Terrace and make sure everyone is who they claim to be.”

“Yes, sir,” they chorused.

“Good. I’ll see you all at morning briefing. Do not disturb me until then unless it is urgent.”

“Yes, sir. Pardon me, Lord Vestra-“ the third agent hesitated, watching Hubert’s efforts to unlock the door to his room without jostling Ferdinand too much. “-but the Duke, is he alright? Should we alert Professor Manuela and Lord Hevring?”

“No, that’s not necessary,” Hubert said. “I’ll summon them if they’re needed. Now go, you have your orders.”

“Yes, sir.”

He got the door open and stepped inside, stopping for a brief moment to look back over his shoulder.

“Do not worry. Ferdinand - Duke Aegir, will be fine. I’ll look after him.”

He missed the significant looks his agents gave each other as the door closed behind him.

Hubert carried Ferdinand over to the bed and carefully laid him down, making sure his hair was spread out over the pillows so it wouldn’t tangle when he moved. Then he called forth his magic in the form of a scanning spell and set to work. He’d find out what that dastard had given Ferdinand and mix up the antidote with his own hands if need be.

Nearly an hour later and Hubert was completely baffled. No matter how many times he performed the scan it came up with nothing but intoxication from high levels of alcohol. He’d tried adjusting the spell several times only to get the same results. It made no sense and he didn’t know why or, worse, how to fix it.

Hubert sighed and slumped down at his desk, exhausted. The adrenaline that had kept him going had burned out long ago and left only bone weariness in its wake. He couldn’t lay down and sleep yet, not with Ferdinand still potentially in danger. He just needed a moment to catch his breath.

Hubert rubbed his eyes and groaned. Then looked up when he heard movement from the bed.

Ferdinand had rolled onto his side and was frowning in his sleep, reaching for something but finding nothing. Hubert watched his fingers grasp and close on thin air again and again, and warred with himself.

He got up and walked over to the bed. Sitting sideways, he let Ferdinand catch his hand. If he needed to hold onto something to settle, Hubert would-

Make a startled noise and tumble forward as he was abruptly jerked down to the mattress. Even dead drunk and drugged as he was, Ferdinand was still a seasoned soldier with the arms and shoulders of a lancer. 

He was also awake again.

Hubert stared, frozen, from his new position on the bed. They were lying face to face, so close he could make out each individual eyelash surrounding those sleepy amber eyes. He flushed as Ferdinand smiled, tipsy and silly, and leaned forward. Before Hubert could do anything, Ferdinand had wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him close.

“Mmm...Hubert...oh Hubert, I love you so much…”

Then Ferdinand tilted his head and closed the distance between them, kissing Hubert softly on the mouth.

Hubert had kissed before when he was growing up. From curiosity mostly. They’d all been stiff, stilted encounters that had done nothing except leave him bored and frustrated. Dull, passionless, irritating. He’d given up on kissing years ago. As far as Hubert was concerned, it was an activity pointless at best and a waste of his valuable time at worst.

Kissing Ferdinand was nothing like that. His lips were soft and tasted sweet despite the lingering tang of alcohol. He was warm and held Hubert tight, his scent a pleasant, dizzying mix of cologne, armor polish, sweet tea and something uniquely _Ferdinand._ Hubert’s head spun and he suddenly felt just as intoxicated as the man kissing him. Before he knew what he was doing, he’d grabbed Ferdinand and pulled him closer still. His heart rate tripled, his head swam and every second was ecstasy. He didn’t want to let Ferdinand go and let their embrace end, not ever. He wanted to stay here on this bed kissing him for the rest of his days.

Then Ferdinand pulled away to take a breath and broke the spell. Hubert came back down just as fast as he’d risen.

Ferdinand was still very drunk and drugged with some mysterious, mind-altering substance. There was no way he’d do anything like this if he were sober. Not kiss Hubert, or...or say he loved him. It wasn’t real. None of this was real. All as fake as the Hubert who had lain with Ferdinand in his own bed next door.

He couldn’t do it. Not like this. He loved Ferdinand far too much to hurt him this way. Hubert was a pragmatic, ruthless man who’d abandoned his scruples long ago. He’d killed, maimed and tortured in his service to Adrestia and knew he would do it again if it ensured Fódlan’s future.

But he couldn’t harm Ferdinand. Goddess and saints help him, but he’d drink all his most lethal poisons at once if it meant keeping him safe.

Hubert forced himself to put out a hand and push Ferdinand away when he tried to lean in for another kiss. Ferdinand blinked unevenly, looking muddled and put out. He tried again, only for Hubert to gently hold a gloved hand to his lips.

“Ferdinand…” there was no point trying any kind of complicated explanation. Not when Ferdinand was this drunk. “I am quite tired now. So let’s go to sleep and we can...kiss more tomorrow, okay?”

Ferdinand was still for a long time as his wine soaked mind made sense of Hubert’s words. Eventually he made a disappointed sound, but nodded.

“‘Kay, Hubie,” he murmured, catching hold of Hubert’s hand and kissing his fingertips. “C’n we hold…?”

Guessing what Ferdinand was trying to ask, Hubert readily wrapped him up in his arms again. He felt Ferdinand sigh happily and snuggle up to him and slur a barely audible “g’night” against his shoulder.

“Love you...Hubert...”

Hubert waited until Ferdinand’s breathing had evened out enough that he had to be asleep, then pressed a featherlight kiss to the top of his silky, orange head.

“I love you too, my Ferdinand. So much.”

***

Hubert had intended to stay awake for the remainder of the night and watch over Ferdinand till morning. Unfortunately he must have dropped off at some point because the next thing he knew, the room was light and Ferdinand was shifting in his arms with a pained groan.

Hubert jumped awake and leapt into a sitting position, heart pounding as he ran the scanning spell over Ferdinand again. His shoulders slumped with relief when he saw the result: normal body chemistry with no cause for concern. Whatever the toxin was, it either had no secondary effects or had already been neutralized the night before. Ferdinand was in no danger, the only thing wrong with him being a rather nasty hangover. Speaking of which-

“Oh Goddess…” Ferdinand moaned, pressing a shaky hand over his eyes. “Oh saints above, how much did I drink last night…?”

Hubert tried to covertly slide out of bed only to realize Ferdinand was still holding onto him with his free hand. Flames take it all! He was stuck. His only hope was that Ferdinand was still too dizzy from the drink to notice until he could get himself untangled.

No such luck. The moment he tried to gently unhook Ferdinand’s fingers, he uncovered his eyes and squinted at Hubert, the light obviously worsening his pain.

“Hubert…?”

Hubert swallowed at his confused tone. He hoped for both their sakes the events of last night remained a blur for Ferdinand.

“Good morning,” he said awkwardly. “How much do you remember?”

“I…” Ferdinand frowned and closed his eyes, knuckling a fist against his aching forehead. “I remember...I was at the party. I drank too much, and then you came…”

Hubert’s heart skipped a beat as Ferdinand’s cheeks flushed pink and his expression changed as he gazed up at Hubert. Adoring despite his hangover.

“You helped me back to my room, and then - oh, _Hubert-!_ ”

“That wasn’t me!” Hubert blurted out before Ferdinand could throw his arms around him again. He hurried on at his look of confusion.

“It was an Agarthan spy, a doppelgänger disguised as me.”

“It...what?”

“Do you recall the incidents with Tomas and Monica?” He explained. “The Hubert at the ball was one of them. He took my appearance to try and steal intel from our faction. But don't worry, he’s no danger to us now. I took care of him last night after I got back.”

“Oh…”

Hubert frowned, confused and perturbed when Ferdinand, far from being glad and relieved, seemed to wilt. He’d thought the revelation that none of what happened had been real would make him happy. What had gone wrong?

“So, it wasn’t you who held me? It wasn’t you I, ah, embraced?” Ferdinand asked, completely crestfallen.

Hubert hesitated.

“It was...partly me. Everything in your room was with the fake, everything in here was with me.”

“I-I see…”

They both looked away, flushed and awkward. Hubert wondered exactly how much Ferdinand recalled of what had past between them. Did he remember telling Hubert he loved him? Did he remember the kiss…?

Hubert cleared his throat to stop his mind straying into dangerous territory. Ferdinand rubbed his eyes, still visibly downhearted. Then they both spoke at once.

“I’m sorry for what my doppelgänger did to you-“

“Please accept my sincerest apologies for what I did-“

They both stopped abruptly. Hubert smirked just a little and Ferdinand let out a quiet titter. It was all simply so absurd.

“Truly, Hubert,” Ferdinand broke the silence the second time. “I am so very sorry for...for what you must have seen and gone through. I do not remember much but I do recall-“

He stared down at his lap, looking remorseful and utterly miserable. Hubert wanted to hold him and kiss the sadness from Ferdinand’s lips until his heart was light again.

“I, um, I recall that I-“

“It doesn’t matter,” Hubert interrupted. “You weren’t in your right mind, so no apologies are necessary. I do not blame you for what happened.”

Ferdinand still didn’t look any better. If anything, he looked worse: head bowed and gaze fixed on his lap. A stray lock of hair fell over his face and Hubert reached out to brush it back without thinking.

“Ferdinand, please,” Hubert said, beginning to feel more than a little desperate. “I assure you it doesn’t matter. You were drunk and drugged, no doubt with some kind of pliancy tincture or aphrodisiac. I’m not offended in the slightest so please, I beg you, do not make yourself miserable for my sake.”

Ferdinand blinked.

“I was drugged…? I don’t remember that.”

“Naturally,” Hubert said. “I have not been able to find out exactly what you were given, but I promise I will! Rest assured I don't think you’re in any danger. If it had any secondary effects, we would have seen them by now.”

“Are you sure?” Ferdinand murmured, rubbing his head again. “Maybe you can’t find anything because there’s just nothing to find?”

“No, I’m certain there is.”

“Why?”

Hubert looked away, cheeks warming rapidly.

“Because...well, because of your behavior of course,” he muttered. Ferdinand’s hangover must really be affecting him badly if he was having this much trouble understanding. “Holding me, kissing me, telling me-“ his face was on fire. “-telling me you love me. I know you would never say any of that under normal circumstances.”

There was a long silence. Just as Hubert was about to speak, Ferdinand beat him to it.

“No,” he said heavily. “I suppose I would not.”

Then something awful happened: a tear rolled down Ferdinand’s cheek. Hubert’s eyes went wide with shock and dismay. He hadn’t seen him cry since they were children and he’d broken his wrist falling from his horse. Another tear fell, then another. Hubert wrenched himself out of his horrified stupor and reached out to him.

“Ferdinand-!”

“S-sorry, sorry,” Ferdinand gulped, trying to brush away the tears that kept falling. “F-forgive me, Hubert, the wine…”

“Are you in pain? Shall I call Manuela?” Hubert asked urgently, already halfway off the bed. If anyone knew how to soothe a hangover, it would be her.

“No, thank you, but it’s not that kind of pain,” Ferdinand said, still trying to stem the flow of tears. “I am just rather sad is all...”

“Why?” Oh Flames, he was not good at this sort of thing. “Whatever it is, just - just tell me! I will fix it for you.”

Ferdinand made a sound somewhere between a sob and a bitter laugh.

“You can’t,” he said softly.

“Why not?” Hubert demanded.

“I can’t tell you.”

“You must!”

“Please, Hubert-“ Ferdinand began, only to gasp, breath hitching as Hubert grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Ferdinand, whatever it is, tell me!” He said, pale eyes boring into Ferdinand’s pleading ones. “I swear to you I will make it right! I will do everything in my power to help you! But I cannot if you won’t tell me the reason you’re crying!”

“Because-! Because-!” Ferdinand gritted his teeth and buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking in Hubert’s grip. “ _Because I wish last night had been real!_ Because I wish it had been you who took me back to my room and whispered such sweet things to me!”

Hubert stared at him, stunned, but Ferdinand wasn’t finished.

“Because when I woke up I thought you felt the same as I do and it made me happier than I’ve ever been in my life! Because-“ his breath caught and came out as a strangled sob. “B-because _I love you,_ Hubert! I love you so much, more than anything in the world! A-and I thought you loved me back, but none of it was real and I c-can’t bear it!”

Hubert’s jaw had dropped somewhere in the middle of Ferdinand's outburst. His anguished confession running through Hubert’s mind again and again on an infinite loop.

Ferdinand loved him.

Ferdinand was _in_ love with him

The man Hubert was hopelessly in love with _loved him back._

“I’m s-sorry,” Ferdinand groaned, still holding his head as though worried he may shake apart. “I should not have told you. Oh Goddess, Hubert, I know you don’t feel the same way but I just felt so-“

“Ferdinand,” Hubert said, making him wince. “Look at me.”

He obeyed, face flushed and tearstained and eyes bottomless with misery. It was heartbreaking to see him this way and a million times worse now Hubert knew he was the cause of it. The once proud Ferdinand von Aegir now looked utterly defeated. Worn out and simply resigned to whatever Hubert had to say next.

But Hubert was done with words.

He grabbed Ferdinand and pulled him in, swallowing his squeak of surprise by crushing their lips together. Ferdinand was rigid against him, too shocked to react. Hubert didn’t care. He had passion enough for both of them. He kissed Ferdinand hungrily with all the need and desire of a man who had been in secret love for years with no outlet. Finally Ferdinand’s mind caught up with current events and he threw his arms around Hubert’s neck, melting into the kiss with equal eagerness. It was a fumbled, clumsy kiss between two people without much experience between them. Hubert didn’t care and he was sure Ferdinand didn’t either. The pleasure of the kiss couldn’t have been better if they were experts. Hubert held Ferdinand tight and stroked his hair, making him shiver and mewl with pleasure. The sound had Hubert burning all over again and he pushed his tongue into Ferdinand’s mouth, starving for more.

When the kiss finally broke, they stayed in each other’s arms. Breathless and panting with eyes half lidded and pupils blown. Hubert could feel Ferdinand’s rapid heartbeat against his own.

“I-I suppose that means you feel the same?” Ferdinand gasped when he finally regained the ability to speak.

“Yes,” Hubert breathed and kissed his forehead. “I do. I am...in love with you, Ferdinand. I actually have been for some time.”

“Really? You have? Oh, Hubert-!” Ferdinand beamed, eyes once more lined with tears but of joy this time. “I thought you never-! I mean, I thought you cared for me only as a friend! I never could have hoped-!”

“I felt the same way,” Hubert gabbled, feeling utterly out of his depth and not caring in the slightest. “About our bond simply being platonic, I mean. I did not want to ruin our friendship by making you reject me.”

Ferdinand was laughing and shaking his head as he wept. Hubert reached out to brush away the tears, heart leaping as Ferdinand nuzzled him and kissed his fingers.

“Oh no, truly? Again, I was exactly the same. Dorothea told me it was obvious you loved me back, but I never believed her!”

“Lady Edelgard said as much,” Hubert sighed, rubbing his temples. “Like you, I thought I knew better. Obviously not.”

“Dear, dear me. We are quite a pair, are we not?” Ferdinand giggled, still sniffling.

“Indeed. A prize pair of fools.”

“Perhaps! Though this fool could not be happier if he was given the world!”

He threw his arms around Hubert again and they held each other close. Hubert petted him and Ferdinand peppered kisses over his cheek.

“Oh, and of course I must thank you for saving me!” Ferdinand smiled as he lay his head on Hubert’s shoulder. “I’m sure you were magnificent.”

“No need.”

“I insist! So thank you, Hubert! Thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome,” Hubert grinned and caught those beaming lips in another kiss.

So wrapped up were they in each other that neither of them heard the approaching footsteps or the door opening until it was too late.

“Hey, Hubert.” Linhardt yawned as he appeared in the room. “I heard about what happened so I came to check on Fer...di...nand...”

Sleepy blue eyes blinked several times as the bed’s two occupants froze then turned to stare at him, wide-eyed and scarlet faced.

“Huh,” Linhardt said after a long moment. “ _Huh…_ Well, he seems fine. Guess I can go take that nap after all.”

He began to leave, but paused and looked over his shoulder for a moment.

“Oh yeah, and congratulations or whatever, I guess. Took you long enough.”

Then the door closed and he was gone.

“That Linhardt,” Ferdinand tittered after an even longer silence than the first one. “Even after five years, he still has not learned to knock.”

“So it would seem,” Hubert said flatly, wondering vaguely if he could get away with hunting Linhardt for sport.

“I’m sure he’ll tell Caspar before long. Then everyone will know.”

“Indeed.”

Ferdinand looked up at him.

“Does that bother you?” He asked, tone tinged with concern.

Hubert stroked Ferdinand’s cheek and shook his head.

“No. I would have preferred we told them ourselves, but I suppose it doesn’t really matter. They had to find out anyway.”

“Right!” Ferdinand chirped, sunny smile blooming anew when Hubert nuzzled him. “Hubert?”

“Mm?”

“What do you think Linhardt meant about it taking us long enough? I mean, I know Edelgard and Dorothea knew, but I thought they were the only ones?”

Hubert shrugged. Honestly Linhardt’s cryptic comment had confused him as well. He and Ferdinand had both been masterful at concealing their feelings, so Lindhart implying he’d known already made no sense. Ah well, it was hardly important. Let him have his secrets. Hubert was too elated to care.

“I don’t know.”

“Hm,” Ferdinand pouted, puzzled. “Whatever the case, it’s sure to be a huge shock when everyone hears the news.”

He leaned against Hubert, sun silk hair spilling over his shoulder in an orange waterfall.

“I mean, you and me? In love?” He giggled. “Who could have predicted it?”

Hubert definitely agreed, but since he was so busy kissing every inch of Ferdinand’s face, the sentiment tragically went unsaid.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I love these adorable dopes so much ;v;


End file.
